Misappropiation
by Blackjack Gabbiani
Summary: When Bashou and Buson want a camera in the middle of the night, it can only mean one thing.


It had originally been a joke, laughed over in the middle of the night and under the haze of alcohol. But unlike the majority of injokes and private references between the two of them, it was still with them through all the years.

So one night, an evening tempered by the kind of boredom that seemed to infect off-duty agents, Buson pulled himself up to a sitting position on the bed, ran a hand through his unbrushed hair, and turned toward his partner. Bashou was seated at the foot of the bed, half-watching a news report from halfway around the world until he sensed that Buson was staring at him. "Yes?" he addressed, not turning around.

"Well..." Buson started, "You know that idea we had? The one with the video camera?"

Bashou clicked the television off. This could prove interesting. "Go on..."

"Let's go for it. We can go down to supplies and get a camera, come back here and get wild." He paused, waiting for a reply, but Bashou didn't move. "Or, y'know, not. Forget it, it was--"

"Let's do it."

"What?" The answer had come so quickly that he could hardly believe he'd heard right.

The slighter man slid off the bed, stretching his back before speaking. "I know you heard me. I'm not going to repeat myself."

It took a moment for the grin to spread across Buson's face. "All RIGHT! Come on, let's go!" He rocketed up from the mattress, grabbing his key card from the bedside table in a sweeping move and pocketing it.

Bashou rolled his eyes but smiled faintly, so that only someone as accustomed to him as Buson would notice. "You get the doors."

"Yes, Princess," Buson grumbled, but did it anyway.

"--And then I think we can pretty much keep going until the tape runs out." Buson concluded. "We can last that long, right?"

Bashou let out an exasperated sigh. "I just can't get over how much of that you have planned."

"Hey, you're the one who plans things out, I'm just following your lead!"

Pausing at the corner and peering around it out of habit, Bashou allowed himself a faint smirk. "That's with missions. There's a difference between those and my sex life."

"Really," Buson deadpanned. "You seem to strike enough parallels. What was it you said last time, something about commandeering me like a naval captain?"

"Something like that." Another corner, and the requisitions counter came into view. "Now let me do the talking." He rapped sharply at the window, and a middle-aged man opened the flap in the bulletproof shield.

"Yes?"

"Yes, my partner and I need to take out a video camera and a tripod."

The man eyed them suspiciously. "At midnight?"

Bashou nodded. "Yes, something came up that we need to monitor."

"Did it now?" he asked. "Describe this situation to me."

"There's a couple of agents we need to keep an eye on," Bashou told him.

"That's it." The man brought his palms down on the counter. "I've been doing this long enough to recognize a couple of horny agents when I see 'em. That would be a misappropiation of Team goods, you realize. Now tell me the truth."

Bashou's eyes narrowed, and his right hand twitched slightly. His mouth moved slowly, but no sound came out. A second later, he grabbed Buson by the collar and pulled him off.

"So I take it your eloquance failed to flatter him?" Buson asked, chuckling.

"You're taking this awfully well considering it puts an end to your plans for the evening."

Another chuckle. "I've got a couple of backups we could sort through. It's been a while since we've played Boss and Traitor, and we don't have to apply to get any rope, so..." He trailed off. "Bashou?"

At the mention of his name, Bashou slowed down, turning slightly so that Buson could see his expression. There was a mischievous glint in his usually cold eyes as they reached the elevator. Bashou jabbed a button at random and practically shoved Buson inside once the doors opened, and slammed the emergency stop the second they closed.

A smile flickered on Buson's mouth. "Have any ideas?"

With a nod of his head, Bashou gestured to the security camera imbedded in the top corner. "Now," he purred, backing Buson up against the wall, "tell me again about those plans of yours." 


End file.
